


The dreams in which I'm dying

by itsalwayssunnyintaubate



Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsalwayssunnyintaubate/pseuds/itsalwayssunnyintaubate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It still hurt. The dreams, the memories… but somehow, that nights when they would wake up from their haunted dreams entangled in the comfort of each other made everything a lot easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The dreams in which I'm dying

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story because I was challenged by my sister to write a story for the song Mad World, by Gary Jules. I postponed it for a year before actually writing it and this is the result. Hope you like it...
> 
> This was not beta read and English is not my mother language, so... yeah... any fuck-ups, please-please-please let me know...

It’s already been some time since they’ve been into this thing – Stiles calls it were-marriage, everybody call it relationship and Derek doesn’t call it a thing. Not that they really needed to put a name on it, since Derek had already shaken hands with the Sheriff and sworn never break Stiles’ heart and Stiles had taken upon himself the responsibility of being the pack mother.

And it’s been some time since Derek had let his defenses down for Stiles.

Derek used to have these dreams, sometimes. He would make tiny, pained noises and jerky movements just before waking up with scared, disturbed watery eyes, looking around not quite recognizing the place where he was. Stiles had seen that look the first time he slept with Derek at the (now entirely rebuilt) Hale house. That first time, Derek had just gotten out of the bed and gone for a walk. Almost an hour later, he was back in bed with Stiles, body curling around him in a vicious grip as if it belonged there.

Stiles just knew better than to just ask what all that bad-dreaming/waking-up/walking-around-in-the-woods-at-night was about. He had had his own share of nightmares and if even he found it hard to talk about it – during his childhood/teenage years sleepovers with Scott, Scott would always piss the hell off of him trying to get him to talk about the nightmares he had after his mom died, thinking he was being the super-duper best friend by doing so – he could only wonder what it would be like for a guy like Derek.

So, if Derek needed space and time, he could have this from Stiles. Or if he needed a listener, a hug, a warm chest to snuggle against and sleep it off, all of that, Stiles would give him.

The fourth time it happened, Derek had woken up with Stiles hand tentatively rubbing small soothing circles against his arm. And that time he hadn’t gone out for a walk, he had just wrapped himself around Stiles and held for dear life, allowing Stiles to shush him back to sleep.

But they’ve never, ever, spoken about what Derek was dreaming about. Until now.

Stiles just kind of suspected it was about the fire, Laura, Peter and Kate bitch Argent. Turns out he was right about the subject, but completely ignored the context.

– I dreamed I died. – Derek mutters. He is propped up on his elbow looking intensely at Stiles. Stiles was trying awkwardly to mirror his position and stroke absently Derek’s arm at the same time. Everything turned tense for one second at Derek’s words, and then Stiles relaxed again, trying to read the look Derek was giving him.

– It that what you dream about, usually?

– Mostly… yeah.

Derek’s eyes flash sadness in the dim moon light that comes through the window.

– And how does it happen, in these dreams of yours? – Stiles measures his words carefully, as if he was talking to a small, scared child. It might as well be – it was just another (another!) huge step in their relationship. It was Derek letting him in even deeper. He wanted to treat it carefully and with the respect it deserved.

– In the fire.

He doesn’t need to explain what fire. Stiles hand is still on Derek’s arm, sliding slowly and sleepily up and down. Stiles nods, waiting for Derek to go on. He could wait all night long… fuck, he could wait for his whole life if that’s what it would take for Derek to let him completely in.

– In the dream, I’m in the house… alone.

The silence stretches between them. Stiles doesn’t make assumptions this time, he just waits.

– I’m the only one in the house. – Derek clarifies, and Stiles understands, then. He feels an ache in his own chest, but shrugs it off. – As it burns down. All of them… Laura… my parents… I can hear them, in the dream. They call me, but they can’t get in until it’s too late.

Derek’s voice is a little gagged now, and Stiles gets it.

– Then there’s the funeral. They bury me. They cry. They leave town. But they get away… you see? I die and they go on… in the dreams.

Stiles wants nothing but to hold him tight and say that everything is somehow going to be okay but he knows this is not what Derek needs right now. Instead, he whispers:

– I see.

Two words. It’s enough for Derek to look at him, startled. Stiles retreats his hand and rearranges himself on the bed. Derek is moving as well, coming closer. Their legs tangle under the comforter and soon Derek is lying partially on top of Stiles.

– It’s confusing, because it’s not really sad? – Stiles offers, tracing patterns down Derek’s back. Derek nods, nosing along his jawbone.

– I know there’s nothing to do, nothing _I_ can do, but I wonder what it would be like... – _if it was me instead of them_. Derek doesn’t need to say the rest of it for Stiles to hear. – It was my fault, in the end… it _was_ supposed to be…

… _Me_ …

Stiles wants (so much it hurts), but he doesn’t tell him to shut up, doesn’t tell him to stop being silly. He knows how it is to carry this special sort of feelings. The way it feels when you lose someone you love, and you just can’t help it, he knows it all. He does, then, the only thing he can do: he leans forward and catches Derek’s lips in a slow kiss. He must taste like ass because they were sleeping and Derek tastes like tears, even if they were nowhere to be seen, but neither of them pull away, concentrating instead in the sweet slide of lips, in the soft sounds the other occasionally makes, in the quiet comfort of just lying there, kissing in the darkness of the room, barely lighten by the moonlight.

Stiles hands end up in Derek’s hair as he pulls the man’s head to his chest, taking a deep breath.

– I sometimes dream about my mom. – he offers.

– Yeah? – Derek’s response muffled against Stiles’ chest, punctuated with a kiss laid near his shoulder.

– Yeah, and even if I miss her like crazy and it hurts a lot, I’m still kind of happy to see her, even if it’s only inside my head… – he blurts out, and feels like an ass a moment later. – Sorry…

– It’s okay… – suddenly Derek’s head is up, his eyes, serious, deep and heart-breakingly perfect, staring deep into Stiles’ soul, and, yeah, it’s really okay. – I know what you mean. I know what it is like…

… _To miss somebody that much_.

It still hurt. The dreams, the memories… but somehow, that nights when they would wake up from their haunted dreams entangled in the comfort of each other made everything a lot easier.

-x-

And I find it kind of funny   
I find it kind of sad   
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had   
I find it hard to tell you   
I find it hard to take   
When people run in circles it’s a very, very   
Mad world

-x-

**Author's Note:**

> This is the song that inspired this work:  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4N3N1MlvVc4


End file.
